


I've Got You (and I Won't Let Go)

by ScarletPotter



Series: Avengers Oneshots [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Cares, Friendship, Protective Clint Barton, clint is a dad, i got you, kate bishop is hurt, kate bishop raped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPotter/pseuds/ScarletPotter
Summary: During a day of training, Clint pushed Kate a little bit too hard and he then learns just how strong his female Hawkeye really is.*Mentions of past rape-read at your own risk.*Or where Kate Bishop learns that she can always lean on Clint.





	I've Got You (and I Won't Let Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's Sarah aka ScarletPotter! I've written another fic! This one contains mentions of rape (not graphic) and mentions of past abuse (somewhat graphic?) but in the end, Kate Bishop can lean on Clint, he's got her back.

Clint urged, “Kate, you got to focus, Set your arm straight, think of going in for the kill.” Kate did her best to follow Clint’s instructions biting out in an annoyed tone, “I’m trying.” She drew the arrow deep into the bowline and exhaled deeply doing her very best to focus on hitting the bullseye. She released the arrow, but it missed. Clint gave her a disappointed look, “Try again.” Kate quickly redrew the arrow, sending it flying. But it missed again. Clint’s disappointment grew, “Again!” Kate mentally groaned, quickly redrawing the bow, but missing again. Clint got angry and yelled, “Are you even trying?” He approached her and grabbed her in an aggressive way, drawing the bow and correcting her stance. 

Thoughts began pouring into her head, not nice ones. The ones that began to make her shake and tremble. She weakly whispered, “Please don’t touch me.” Since when was she on the floor? She began to pant heavily and she felt like she was going to be sick. Everything was spinning and her throat began to tighten. 

Clint began to panic himself, asking, “Kate? Kate? You alright? Kate, breathe with me.” He began to talk out loud as he tried to assess the situation, “Okay, you’re having a panic attack. Hey, hey, breathe with me.” He made a hand towards her and she began to shake, looking terrified as she whisper-begged, “Please don’t touch me. Not again.” Clint quickly withdrew his hand but remained on his knees in front of the girl, “Okay, okay, I won’t touch you.” Kate began to sob, “I’m so sorry, I’ll be good, just please don’t touch me again. I don’t know anything, please!” Now Clint began to get ideas of what Kate was implying. And they weren’t looking good. 

Clint spoke gently, “Hey, hey, Kate, listen, it’s me, Clint, y’ know, male Hawkeye? You’re alright, you’re safe, you’re not there, and no one is going to touch you alright? You’re like my kid, I’ve got you.” He gently traced patterns on the part of where her jeans covered her knees, speaking softly, pained by how terrified Kate was. 

She looked so scared, so desperate, so goddamn vulnerable and it physically hurt Clint. Seeing someone he looked at like a daughter scared and in pain. Because of something he did. 

Slowly, Kate came out of it and threw her seventeen-year-old self into Clint’s chest, sobbing her tiny heart out. Clint asked gently, “Kate, can I touch you, I’ll be gentle, you can say no, it’s alright.” Kate nodded, “It’s okay.” Clint gently rubbed her back, the two resting in the comfortable silence. Kate broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” Clint looked down at her, “For what?” Kate answered not meeting his eyes, “For panicking and flipping out that whole thing.” Clint shook his head, promising, “You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I’m sorry.” Kate spoke, “Can I tell you what happened?” Clint nodded, leaning back against the wall for support, still holding the child in his arms, “You don’t have to.” 

Kate nodded, “I need to tell someone, and you’re the only person that I have left.” She sounded so sad, and so scared that Clint felt like he himself was going to break down in sobs. He spoke gently but firmly, “Of course, thank you for telling me. I’m glad you trust me. You can tell me anything. Except that I’m bad at jokes. I won’t tolerate that kiddo.” Kate chuckled before starting to tell him. She asked carefully, “Promise you won’t judge?” Clint nodded, holding out his pinky, “I solemnly swear.” Kate lightly chuckled, “Stop with the references.” Clint nodded, putting on a serious expression as he adjusted her position, having her sit against his chest. 

Kate began, voice slightly waving, “It happened when I was thirteen years old. It was one week after my birthday.” She paused to swallow and Clint didn’t prod her when she was ready she would tell him. She continued, “My father, was never a good man. He had insulted women a lot, calling them meant to serve men. He had abused my mother, and he would make sure that I watched.” Tears began to pool her eyes and Clint gently wiped the tears away as if she were one of his own. He spoke gently, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” 

Kate continued, “And he kept punishing my mother. She never fought back, she would always grab my arms and beg me, that when I grew up, to find justice for the world. That the world was a scary, cruel place. She had told me to run and to never look back. I never understood what she meant. I couldn’t leave her, if I did, my father probably would have killed her. One time, my mother tried to fight back, and he knocked her out unconscious. I always asked her, why don’t you leave? She said that if she left, there would be no one to protect her. She learned to take the beatings, and I learned to stay silent. One day, she stopped fighting back. She just lay there, on the floor, not daring to move an inch until he was well out of the room. A month before my twelfth birthday, my father, he, he.” She paused and broke into heavy sobs, throwing her arms around Clint’s neck. He tucked her head under his neck, letting her cry. He eased her, “There, there, it’s alright. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” Kate sniffled, and then continued, “She didn’t get back up. He pulled out a knife and I knew what he was going to do. I yelled I pleaded for her to get up. To fight back. He turned and he held the knife to my throat.” 

Clint held her tighter, and Kate continued, “He held the knife to my throat and told me that if I didn’t shut up, I would die. My mother begged, her last wish was for me to remain calm. To remain quiet. And I did. She wouldn’t get back up. She was going to escape. I watched him drive the blade through her heart, I watched the blood ooze out, and the life, the light die out of her eyes. And it hurt. So so much. He didn’t even look sorry. He laughed and told me that this was what happened to those who were weak. That women were weak, and that I too would end up on the same path, all alone, and hurt. He dragged the body out, he didn’t let me say goodbye, or hold her hand one last time, and just got rid of it. As if she was trash. And then he hurt me. He would hit me, kick me, he would find a way, any way to physically hurt me. I learned to resent touch, trembling in fear. But then, after I turned thirteen years old.”

She paused and broke down again. She looked scared, but Clint needed to know because he had triggered it. Clint spoke gently, “Kate, I’m so sorry, but, I need to know, I triggered it, I’m going to protect you, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again, but I just need to know what he did. I want to help you, I promise you, Katie, I won't hurt you.” Using the affectionate nickname seemed to calm her down. 

Kate nodded, using the back of her hands to dry her tears. “He came into my room one night and tied me up. I didn’t understand why. I just felt so scared. He put something in my mouth, that kept me quiet. I tried to escape, but then,” she hiccuped, “he put a gun to my head. And I never remembered going still so quickly. He forced my shirt off, and then he touched me. He was so close and no matter what I did, he wouldn’t stop. And, then, when he pried off my pants, I lost it.” 

Kate broke into loud, ugly sobs as she buried her head in Clint’s soft shoulder as he gently stroked her back, whispering about how brave she was, how strong she was as he carefully stroked her back, careful not to set off another relapse. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to be tough but the way she threw herself at him, burrowing her tiny head in his broad shoulder answered his doubts. 

Kate didn’t try to break the sobs as she continued, “He wasn’t gentle. He was rough, he didn’t care how much it hurt, he said he enjoyed the pain on my face. And he would do this, every day. On my birthday the next year, I tried to fight back for once, and I regretted it. I didn’t like it when I was touched, it brought, it brought the bad memories.” Clint nodded, feeling so guilty. He apologized, “Katie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, god, I didn’t know. And that’s not your fault. You didn’t have to tell me. And I’m so, so sorry. I’ll be extra careful alright? We’re going to keep you safe yeah? I’m going to keep you safe. No one, no man, no woman, no one is going to touch you like that ever. You understand?” Kate nodded, tears still flying down her face.

Clint sighed as he leaned against the wall, still holding the crying girl in his arms, “We’re taking a break, today, tomorrow, as long as you need. If you ever need to stop, if it gets too much, if I do something wrong, you tell me alright Katie?” Kate nodded, still clinging to Clint as if he were the last thing in the world. 

Clint leaned back, taking the girl’s weight sighing, “I’ve got you, and I won’t let go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Sadly, stuff like rape and abuse is very real in this world and there are countless of victims and survivors. If you are one, or anyone who was enduring a lot of stuff, you can do this. You can continue on. Do not let your past defy who you are. Your past will linger, which leaves the future to your making. 
> 
> Have a nice day/night and be sure to leave kudos! What other characters should I write?


End file.
